Well, what a month! I’ve finally learnt that the world doesn’t revolve around me (hard to believe folks!) and that sometimes I’ve just got to step off my own rollercoaster and step onto someone else’s… I’m loathe to say ‘Poor Matt’ because that would mean that I feel sorry for him – I don’t. I feel for him, and that’s different altogether. My big strong, gorgeous, funny, loyal Matt is having a toughtime as I’m sure you all know and I’m so relieved that he’s been able to share how he’s feeling. At first, I was a bit gutted that he’d opened up to you guys before he sat down and spilled his guts to me, but like I say…it’s not about me. I can empathise though. I know how it feels to wake up with your stomach churning and that feeling of pending doom; that feeling of complete dread that stays with you until the end of the shift when a sense of euphoria takes over, as you realise you’ve survived another day. That unreasonable, sensitive you that could burst into tears at any mom...

I’ve done it… I have finally come clean to Flo and you know what? It wasn’t as bad as I had imagined, albeit a few tears from both of us, but now my shoulders feel a lot lighter. It all came to a head when working the night shift. Things were going pretty smoothly, but it also felt like the calm before the storm. I went to check on a couple of new patients that had come in during the day, when it all went crazy (it wasn’t a full moon). Sandra, a younger woman with schizophrenia started shouting from the rooftops that her fella was trying to break in, cue her trying to escape; and so she started pushing and shoving her way through the ward, hitting the walls. This started some other patients off and you can imagine the rest. It was one of those shifts when you feel like you are in a dream and you can’t wait ‘til it’s over. I actually felt sorry for Sandra, and like her, at times I wanted to escape from it all. After going home feeling exhausted, I ended up sleeping on the couc...

 Where do I begin… I’m sat here while flo’s on night shift trying my sixth attempt at writing this, I have always wanted to work in health and social care for as long as I can remember and I have had a great career so far. I have seen some things that are indescribable and also been so elated to ultimately ‘Save a Life’ but most recently, well in fact the past sixth months, have been really hard and it’s got to the point that I have started to shut myself away from work and even flo. The days are starting to blur into one and I don’t want to get out of bed, I lie awake at 3am going over everything and I just don’t know what to do. One of my patients ‘Timmy’ who was let’s say, a bit of a ‘Gangster’ in his day has frontoemporal dementia, he’s physically still fit for his age (late 70’s). When we initially met, I knew he was going to be a challenge. If I can recall his first words were ‘Ey Up w***er’ I like to think of myself as a man’s man and so my approach was more to give ...

It’s been another plate-spinning fortnight, but guess what? Some of those plates have now been spun into their rightful place and things are looking good. My first piece of news is that I got the job!! I am now a very proud Band 6 nurse! Steve called me (eventually) to give me the news. The rumours were right, there were two posts and I got one of them! Steve told me that the other successful candidate was pretty much the opposite of me in that she was quiet, steady and sensible. If I hadn’t been so ecstatic, I might have felt a bit insulted but as it was, all I felt was complete elation. I rang Carla as soon as I got off the phone to Steve and she couldn’t do anything but scream! I honestly couldn’t have done this without the encouragement, support and belief of both Steve and Carla. My second piece of news is that the wedding plans are almost complete; everything has been ordered or arranged. Ironically, the only thing to buy now is the Dragon Mother’s outfit. As you would...

Can you believe that I have now been qualified a full two years? I can’t! It has been almost two years to the day since I donned the scary title of ‘Staff Nurse’, with all its responsibilities and rewards and I can honestly say that I wouldn’t want to be anything else. I’ve had so many adventures (not to mention the near-miss disasters) in that time and my life has taken such a positive direction. I’d like to say I planned it that way, but I think it’s more default than design! Carla reminded me last week that I will need to revalidate next year and I nearly choked on my Gregg’s sausage roll. I’m pretty good at keeping my portfolio up to date (thanks to the RCN website and Matt’s OCD) so I’m not worrying about it. I’m more worried about the time flying past and not doing everything that I want to do! I had a proper heart to heart with Carla about career progression and what my aspirations are – I honestly couldn’t hope for a better mentor and she said the best thing I could ...

This has been a fortnight of ‘firsts’ for me! First grown-up holiday for me and Matt, first mortgage application and first time I have properly stood up to and defied the Dragon-Mother (and consequently the first time I have actually pooed my pants). Oh, and the first time I have been almost run over by bloody Big Bird from Sesame Street riding a pink moped (no, I’m not inebriated – more of that later). Me and Matt both decided that we needed some time off. He’s been having a bit of a rough time at work of late and I had the manic preparation period for the Band 6 job, so we booked some time off and looked for a cheap holiday. Cheap was the main criteria with the fairy-tale wedding coming up in August so we ended up at a caravan park in Wales. Now I’ve got nothing against kids, but in true Florence style, I managed to book the half-term holiday week so it didn’t turn out to be quite the tranquil break we were looking for. One little boy in the caravan next door attac...

Just call me Jennifer Ennis. I’m sure that’s who the world thinks I am with all these hurdles that are being put in front of me. It started when I received the letter, inviting me for an interview for the Band 6 position on the ward. When I say ‘interview’, what I really mean is ‘interrogation’. Not satisfied that us mere mortals should sweat for a solid hour through a traditional interview, the powers that be have decided that selection of the fittest should consist of an assessment centre – whatever that means. Once I’d peeled myself off the ceiling, I went in search of Matt who is usually the voice of reason. Unfortunately, not this time. I’m sure he took my place on the ceiling.  He’d got his Band 6 position late last year and hadn’t had to jump through hoops this size. We looked at it together to try to decipher the size of this task. There would be a written assessment, based on a fictitious patient, to test my clinical skills. Then there was the role pla...